I know I shouldn’t be but I’m watching telly as I type this. There’s a film on which is set in Ireland during those heady days of the Celtic Tiger which I THINK lasted for about nine years. Anyway it’s showing us all in Dublin stoned, drugged, pinging on ecstasy, drunk, vomiting and being highly aggressive in a host of fabulous places such as shiny clubs, gastro pubs, party venues and things called ”events”. This is funny as I lived in Ireland for at least two of these Grrr Tiger years and all I did was work. I feel cheated!!!! Where are my drugs and ”events”??? Although I did get head hunted one night in a VERY fancy restaurant. Sigh. Now if I get to the pub up the road I am doing well (really well, as most people party at home now). Hmmpf. I might just go down to the tram stop and see if Mr Bright, my future husband, is flitting by, and try to seduce him with my alleged ”charms” which I am alleging I have, but only because my allegation has no basis in fact whatsoever.